


you're my spark of nature's fire, you're my sweet complete desire

by jadeandquartz



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 05: A Crown of Candy, D20 Treat, F/F, First Kiss, Pining, Pre-Canon, Saccharina deserves absolutely all the love in the world, and to be honest? being in love is a lot like channeling lightning when you think about it, marauding and piracy and all that jazz, storms as somewhat elaborate metaphors, the many feelings that come with being in love with your best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeandquartz/pseuds/jadeandquartz
Summary: Everything good that Saccharina has ever had has required a battle - has taken blood and sweat and tears to painstakingly earn. Surely, this kind of love should be the same. Surely, it should require tears, and doubt, and many more hours of uncertainty.But - this is Gooey. Brave, brilliant Gooey, her companion, her chief marauder, herbest friend.And things have always been easy with the two of them, haven't they?***(Or: A hurricane is brewing in the Dairy Seas, and Saccharina Frostwhip is falling deeply,desperatelyin love.)
Relationships: Saccharina Frostwhip/Gooey
Kudos: 25
Collections: Dimension 20 Fic Exchange 2020





	you're my spark of nature's fire, you're my sweet complete desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KLStarre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLStarre/gifts).



> written for the prompt "I think they are wives and I love them and would like to see anything involving them," because yes! Yes they are. They are wives, and they are in love, and you are right, and I am going to write about them. 
> 
> title is from "Sunny" by Boney M.

"Any sign of that storm I was promised?" Saccharina shouts up to Gooey, who is standing in the crow's nest of the _Whipped Fury_ , spyglass pressed to her eye, scanning the horizon for clouds. 

“The skies are clear, your Majesty,” comes Gooey’s response a moment later, cool and calm as ever. 

Saccharina looks out over the side of her ship at the mirror-blue sea beneath, stretching in every direction, and wonders how long this dry spell will last. They are low on weapons, lower on rations, and scraping the bottom of the barrel on morale. They need a Bulbian envoy, a greedy Vegetanian merchant ship - something to rob and plunder, something to feed the fury of the marauders and keep their bellies full. 

_Should I risk summoning a strong wind to get us under way?_

It would be easy to just fly up and ask Gooey’s opinion. It would be smart, probably, to do that, to consult her second in command on such an important matter. The hoped-for storm may not be approaching, but a light breeze blows across the ship’s deck nonetheless. The ragged white sails ripple in midair; the ropes and rigging thrum gently, the sound buzzing comfortably through Saccharina’s bones. She could stretch out her arms, call on her magic, and be standing next to Gooey in the crow’s nest an instant later. The two of them all alone, out of earshot of the crew, balanced high above the rest of the world. 

Her heartbeat - for absolutely _no_ reason connected to that thought - accelerates, fluttering in the confines of her chest like a panicked butterfly. 

Saccharina stares a little too long at the way that Gooey’s beautiful red hair billows in the breeze, and decides to remain on deck. 

Best not to play with luck. Heights are exhilarating, but one can always fall from them, and the impact is rarely enjoyable.  
  


*

It’s not that Gooey _scares_ Saccharina. Not really. Not the way that so many other things in the world do. Saccharina is a queen - or she will be one, someday - and queens can’t afford the luxury of lying to themselves, so Saccharina doesn’t. She _knows_ what she’s afraid of. She’s afraid of the religious fervor of Bulbians - the nuns who raised her, the clergy who stood idly by and didn’t save her. She’s afraid of being a bad leader - her intentions are good, but good intentions mean nothing if their results aren’t good as well. And she’s afraid of her father, of what the emotion in his eyes will be when she finally meets him. 

( _Love_ , Saccharina hopes, despite herself. Certainly, Amethar Rocks will be filled with confusion and shock and disbelief upon meeting his long-lost daughter, but those, they can work through together. No, they _will_ work through together. She does not know what he will ask of her, in exchange for his love - but she will give it to him, whatever it may be. And then he’ll _love_ her, love her enough to make up for decades without that love. Then, she’ll meet her stepmother, and her baby sisters - and then, and then, and _then_ -) 

Saccharina is _especially_ afraid of how hopeful she can be.

(If she hoped less, in her life, she might hurt less, too). 

But Gooey does not scare Saccharina.

Being around Gooey - well, it's _easy_. A word which doesn't encompass Gooey, not in the slightest - a word which feels too little, too insignificant, for Gooey, who deserves so many words, more words than Saccharina knows how to give her. But for two girls growing up in the Abbey of the Shimmering Cream, _easy_ was hard to come by. _Easy_ was a rarity. Gooey is sharp and bright like a well-oiled blade, fierce as a kraken and twice as deadly. Saccharina has never seen Gooey flinch from a blow, not even when a wave of radiant Bulbian fire claimed half her face in half a second. She has never seen her run from a battle, not even when the _Whipped Fury_ was hunted into Pulp Bay by half a dozen ships of the faith and she had faced almost certain doom at the hands of their most sworn enemies. 

Gooey is, objectively, one of the finest warriors and most fearsome spirits among the marauders. And yet, it is the little details that make her so easy to care for, the ones that Saccharina has picked up over almost a decade of being together. For example, Gooey is practically addicted to an extremely rare brand of Fructeran sleepytime tea, one which helps her sleep when her brain is working so hard it refuses to let her body rest. Gooey knows almost everything that there is to know about knots (her hammock in the marauder's quarters is a work of art, because the rope is thin and silky, more like a spiderweb than a bed, yet the knots spread the weight of her body out so evenly that it will never break beneath her.) She hates flowers, because they remind her of her father, but she _loves_ seashells, and Saccharina will sometimes change the _Whipped Fury's_ path so they can sail past forgotten beaches and Gooey can find new ones to collect. 

Saccharina knows Gooey, instinctively, inherently. It is similar to the way that she knows her lungs will continue to rise and fall with the briny, salty sea air - she doesn't have to question the knowledge, not in the way she has to question everything else in her life.

Gooey is a constant, a northern star that is there to guide her. Gooey is - easy. Beautiful, and brilliant, and _easy._

When she and Gooey are alone in the same room, lately, they have navigated the space with a new and growing kind of familiarity. Gooey will hug Saccharina and waltz her around the room when they've discovered a new, secret route across the sea. Saccharina will brush Gooey's hair out of her eyes when it flops into them, and they will laugh about it. Often, they will relax into the same chair with Saccharina half-sitting in Gooey's lap, their heads tilted together conspiratorially as they examine their map. 

Saccharina has spent more nights than she wants to admit lying in bed and staring at the ceiling of the captain's quarters, wondering if she and Gooey would navigate each _other_ with the same kind of ease and familiarity, were they to - 

\- well.

Anyway. 

Gooey is easy to be around, easy to _breathe_ around. And yet, there are times when Saccharina looks at her Chief Marauder and realizes that Gooey takes her breath away entirely. 

*

Saccharina does not have to summon a storm, because later that same day, a Bulbian missionary ship wanders through the still waters of the Yogurt Shoals. The _Whipped Fury_ makes short work of its gleaming gold sails, its powerful cannons, its sneering, pious crew. 

"We deserve a party," Saccharina says to Gooey, as they stalk through the hold of the ship, their swords still in hand. "What are your thoughts on throwing one, as soon as we've safely sailed away?"  
  
Gooey cuts away the last cobweb covering the dusty golden boxes of Bulbian treasure, and turns to look back at Saccharina. She is bleeding slightly from a cut to the cheek, her armor askew, her eyes deep pools of purple fire that ignite something in Saccharina's chest. "I think, your Majesty, that both I and the rest of the crew would throw ourselves _wholeheartedly_ into a party. Swifty's found some kegs of good mature wine on the upper deck, reportedly. No time like the present to get to drinking them." 

"And what are your thoughts on where we should go after here?" Saccharina asks, stepping over the body of a priest who spit in her face not ten minutes before and slashing her sword through the painted canvas banner of the Bulbian church that hangs on the wall behind him. "We could continue to journey around the Yogurt Shoals; there's a lot to plunder, this time of year. However, it's been a while since we made our way up through the Chili Sea, and I must admit, I dearly miss sailing the length of the Sangre." 

"Would you like my honest response, Saccharina?" Gooey replies - a rare use of the first name, a rare taste of the personal, and _oh_ , Saccharina suspects that wishing desperately to kiss your best friend after a battle is _not_ a problem most queens contend with. But she has never been like _most queens,_ and she's not about to start falling in line now. 

"Always, Gooey. Always," Saccharina says, and stops herself from saying _I love your honesty_ instead. Pushing her luck will only make things worse. 

"The crew will follow you anywhere, but they're tired as hell of the Shoals." Gooey leans against the wall, arms crossed, teeth flashing white in a teasing grin. "And, if I recall correctly, last time, we _raced_ the length of the Sangre. You flew, and I captained the ship." 

"Well. I _let_ you win, that time." 

"Then I'm sure you'll have no problems with a rematch." 

"The Chili Sea it is, then!" Saccharina steps close to the stairwell and raises her voice to send the proclamation up to the crew on deck. Cheers start to filter back down to her in response. She turns back to Gooey. "And a rematch is most certainly in the cards. Do you have anything you're feeling confident enough to wager?" 

"On my sailing skills?" Gooey tilts her head. "I'll bet you all my nighttime lookout duties for a _month,_ your Majesty." 

_"Prepare to become nocturnal_ ," Saccharina says with a wiggle of her eyebrows, because if there's one thing that they bonded over in their first few months at the abbey, it's that they're both ferociously and _mercilessly_ competitive. Nighttime lookout duty is a weekly affair, and never a fun one - so even if Gooey wins, Saccharina will just keep her company throughout all her shifts, as she already does, but it's the _principle_ of the thing that's at stake here. 

Gooey's smile grows even wider, and she winks at Saccharina - _winks,_ for heaven's sake. Saccharina sheathes her sword and kneels down to start forcing open the treasure crates, hoping the motion conceals just how weak she is at the knees. 

A month off marauding, to sail through the Meatlands and have some outlandish fun. A party tonight, with wine and dancing and song and Gooey's bright, bright eyes -

 _You could still be misinterpreting all this,_ she tries to tell the hopeful part of herself, but as usual, it refuses to listen. 

*

The _Whipped Fury_ speeds away from the Yogurt Shoals as the Bulb sets below the horizon and the stars start to pop cheerily into the sky. Soon enough, it is nighttime, and the ship comes alive with braziers of fire and fountains of wine, the smell of spices and the shouts of revelry. 

Saccharina and Gooey have just secured the last piece of treasure belowdecks and are halfway to the top of the ship when Saccharina stops dead in her tracks, Gooey nearly crashing into her. Something familiar is crackling in her bones and blood. The sensation is heady, better than alcohol or battle. Powerful and beautiful and _wild,_ the way the world should be.

She cocks her head to one side, closes her eyes, and listens. 

_There._

Thirty-five degrees northwest. A whip-crack of lightning, and an echoing cymbal-clash of thunder. Powerful. _Very_ powerful. Hurricane-force, even. 

A storm is finally on its way. 

"Your Majesty - Saccharina - are you all right?" Gooey says, a little concern breaking through her voice. And then, she takes Saccharina's hand in her own, strong and firm and reassuring. "If there's anything I can do..."

Saccharina is more than all right - and maybe it's Gooey's words, the sound of Saccharina's name on her lips, or maybe it's the storm, already dancing in her soul, but she can feel recklessness starting to bubble up all through her. It’s a special kind of recklessness, that kind that leads you to tempt fate and thwart luck and fly to heights you never dared before. 

_What good is it, being the Storm-Captain of the Frosted Fleet, if I don’t have a storm to captain?_

She opens her eyes, smiles, and starts to drag Gooey towards the stairs. 

"Gooey, I've just had an absolutely _amazing_ idea."

* 

When they get onto deck, the party has ground to a halt as the first few drops of rain start to pound the wood of the deck and sizzle on the hot iron of the braziers. High in the nighttime sky, clouds scud over the moon like smoke, extinguishing its plain silver light. The air burns hot and hungry on Saccharina's skin as she strides towards the crow's nest. Her cape swirls around her. The wind is beginning to accelerate. 

Gooey follows her like a shadow, a little more relaxed but still clearly concerned.

"Is this a personal matter, your Majesty, or would you like me to come with you?"   
  
Saccharina is already two rungs up the rope ladder, and she turns to look down at Gooey and truly appreciate the spark of her eyes and the train of her thoughts - her head, her heart, the fact that she'd follow Saccharina into a _hurricane_ without hesitation. 

Lightning lances across the sky, close and deadly, illuminating the deck of the ship as bright as day. But Gooey, for once, doesn’t even spare the danger a passing glance.

Instead, she is staring at Saccharina as if she is the North Star. As if she is the only other person in the world. 

Everything good that Saccharina has ever had has required a battle - has taken blood and sweat and tears to painstakingly earn. Surely, this kind of love should be the same. Surely, it should require tears, and doubt, and many more hours of uncertainty. 

But - this is Gooey. Brave, brilliant Gooey, her companion, her chief marauder, her _best friend._

And things have always been easy with the two of them, haven't they? 

"Gooey, if you want," Saccharina says, "I would _love_ you to come with me." 

Gooey smiles and starts to climb, and Saccharina's heart swells and soars with the storm. 

They reach the crow's nest a minute or two later, the rope barely even burning Saccharina's palms after years of practice. Gooey stares up into the vortex of churning clouds, her neck craned upwards, rain trickling off the plates of her armor. Saccharina walks to the edge of the small platform, climbing up onto the railing. As she stands, gingerly, taking a moment to cement her balance, she feels arms wrap around her from behind. 

"I sense you're planning to do something amazing, as usual," Gooey whispers in her ear - and Saccharina knows, instinctively and inherently, that she will love her, love her, _love her,_ as long as they live. 

She stretches her hands out to the storm.

_Come to me._

With an earsplitting _boom,_ lightning and thunder descend, crashing into the water hundreds of feet below.

The ship surges upwards with a great groaning of timbers, exploding out of the sea and into the storm's embrace, higher and higher and _higher,_ winds whipping around it steadily to keep it aloft. There are shouts of glee from the deck. Marauders run to the railings, peering out into the blackness, as bolts of lightning sear the air around them, the clouds roaring with fury and noise on every side. 

Saccharina can feel electricity burning through her without burning her up, every nerve in her body tingling on high alert. She stretches her hands wider, making the maelstrom's winds intensify - ten times more powerful, a _hundred_ times more - and knows she could make it even greater than that, if she wished. 

"I hope you're not too scared by this," she starts to say, turning to Gooey - 

\- and Gooey, her hair flying free in the hurricane winds, carefully cups Saccharina’s cheek with her hand and pulls her into a breathless, beautiful kiss. 

The storm goes silent, for an instant, up here high above the rest of the world.

 _(It is easy to fly_ , Saccharina realizes.

_If we do it together, we will never need to come down.)_

"Saccharina," Gooey whispers, when they finally break apart, gasping for air. "Your Majesty - _Saccharina_ \- you _know_ I could never be scared of you."

The _Whipped Fury_ sails onwards through the nighttime sky. 

Saccharina Frostwhip threads her fingers through Gooey's hair and wordlessly, _finally,_ kisses her back.

**Author's Note:**

> I love them! I love them! Let them be in love!
> 
> (For the record, both the Sangre and the Chili Sea are really places on the map of Calorum. I spent a lot of time on the D20 wiki for this one.)


End file.
